


love, let's talk about love

by pissedofsandwich



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Idiots Being Stubborn, Longing, M/M, Post-Movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-28 21:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13912563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pissedofsandwich/pseuds/pissedofsandwich
Summary: T'Challa and M'Baku dance around the idea of pursuing something that they both want. T'Challa avoids thinking about it at all, and M'Baku won't push. But where they both see a problem, Shuri sees a solution.





	love, let's talk about love

**Author's Note:**

> it is unacceptable that there are only 3 pages of m'challa content. i decided to contribute. 
> 
> disclaimer: i do not read the comics, so my knowledge about black panther is limited from interviews and movies. im indonesian, so please do call me out if i come across as offensive. i just love black panther so much, for the way it celebrates melanin, which is not something that's been done a lot before. i hope none of them are too out of character. title from "all the stars" from sza and kendrick, which is super dope. (i listened to sza while writing this, its super effective)
> 
> that being said, please enjoy!

There is no way that M'Baku can see T'Challa through a single lens once he gets to know the king.   
  
The world fears and respects him in equal measure, he learns that. Granted, the world also _explodes_ after Wakanda opens its borders. Conspiracies run amok, leaders from countries who never have had an interest in Wakanda before suddenly speak up, either to reject or to try to establish ties, all reactions that are to be expected when a country with the amount of resources Wakanda possesses decides to share them with the rest of the world.  
  
M'Baku tracks the news, and sees world leaders condemn T'Challa, sees the United Nations attempt to create a resolution on the use of vibranium, sees an orange-skinned man calls T'Challa derogatory names and accuses their country of harboring weapons, preparing for war, and watches T'Challa takes them down one by one in a twenty-minute speech that leaves the room silent at the General Assembly. M'Baku remembers only bits and pieces: culturally insensitive, accusatory, belittling of African communities, prejudice - and he remembers the face of the audience the most, that shame sinking in as the one word T'Challa doesn't say flash in their mind: racism.   
  
Ce'Athauna reads him about twenty articles after T'Challa uses his right of reply to President Trump after the speech at the General Assembly - the world praises him, looks at him with a reverence that paints him as a savior, but at the same time, the world is cautious of the things that he is capable of. Now, countries are clamoring to stay on Wakanda's good side.   
  
All after one speech.  
  
But back home, that exterior is replaced for one that is soft. He is not simply a king: he is a brother to Shuri, to the people he leads. And like a brother, he banters. Shuri sends him a footage of T'Challa, without context, flat on his ass after getting knocked out, yelling in embarrassment, "Delete that footage!" along with a text that says, "This is the man you're uniting the Jabari with. Don't worry, he doesn't bite." Somehow, Shuri gets away with it. M'Baku still thinks it is ridiculous to put a child in charge of weapons and technology, and even more ridiculous is the way T'Challa lets his sister do things that M'Baku would hate to see his sister do, if he had one. Clothes of the outside world inside the palace, language of the outside world, culture of the outside world against the tradition. And T'Challa looks at his sister with nothing but admiration.  
  
His general, Okoye, and sort of ex-lover, Nakia, are also treated with the same softness T'Challa treats Shuri with. Okoye teases and jokes with T'Challa like old friends would, without the rigid general/king formality in place. Nakia debates and disagrees, makes fun of T'Challa sometimes, and all T'Challa has ever done in response is to laugh sheepishly and smile at her like she is everything he has ever wanted in life, the sun and the moon both personified.  
  
In front of the Elders, he speaks with soft words, listens intently to the wants and needs of the tribes, and is always the bridge to a compromise. He is careful not to let the minority be sidelined, always trying wise, weighing in all options, avoids making rash decisions. He makes mistakes to learn from them, and never to repeat, eager to use his power for good. Nowadays, M'Baku sees an edge in T'Challa's eyes that he's never seen before Killmonger, as if the deaths of the people in his name always linger, a reminder than all actions have consequences, and he's always calculating to never let body count be a part of his decisions. Yet, he is firm all the same, the same man that the international media respects and fears, never letting his words be trampled. The only person he bows his head to is the Queen Mother, and with her, he is gentle and protective.  
  
And yet, there is something untouchable about the king, about the set of his shoulders, like he couldn't bear to let his guard down. Like he couldn't bear to be weak. Not even in front of the people he knows and loves. He cries and smiles and laughs, but even then he is careful about his emotions, showing just enough to let people know he is still human, and yet, far too out of reach to hold.  
  
Even as he sits, his back upright, commanding attention, M'Baku feels like he is trying to be more... _more_.  
  
"M'Baku?"  
  
The Jabari man blinks. At once, he realizes he has been zoning out. Elder meetings are bothersome. He shouldn't have come. "My opinion on this matter stays the same," he says. Though he hasn't been actively listening, he knows what they have been talking about -- the same thing they have been talking about for three days now, with no end.   
  
"There must be a way to compromise," T'Challa says, far too determined for a situation such as this. "We all agreed that when we decided to open our doors, it meant we now have the responsibilities to help those in need. That means we have to at least consider taking in all these refugees. They have no home, no country left, victims of a proxy war that they never asked to be a part of it, all the while, the nations who are responsible have decided to close its doors on them."  
  
"They are not our people," the Mining Tribe Elder, Nayely, says. "We have to realize that we cannot save everyone."  
  
"I understand that we cannot," T'Challa starts, but another interrupts, "Then why are we debating?"  
  
"Because we can try," T'Challa says, and M'Baku almost laughs at the cliché, "Because we have the capabilities to. Because we have to take that step, to show the world that we are strongest when we do not see our differences as humans. Because we stood by and let the West enslave our people when we could've helped -- never again."  
  
T'Challa regards the room with a cold, hard stare. No Elders dare to speak. M'Baku sighs -- it may look like they have come to an agreement as of now, but come  tomorrow, they will start this all over again. So he leans forward and says, "I say we start a trial period." T'Challa tilts his head at him, and, certain he has the room's attention, he continues, "Let all these people in, alright. Small groups. Maybe seventy, a hundred. Let's see how well they fare in our lands. If they do good, don't give us any trouble, then we take in more. Assuming the war will still be going on at that time."  
  
"Refugee camps are often in inhumane conditions," Nakia speaks up, because she's a future queen or whatever. M'Baku does not care (no, he does). "You're talking about giving human beings a probation, as if they're an experiment."  
  
"I'm not saying they have to live in inhumane conditions," M'Baku shrugs.  
  
"Then where would they live?" W'Kabi asks. "The first of tourists arrived only days ago. And they are not even here for pleasure; they're the UN delegation, treated to the best things Wakanda has to offer, and still, the people see them as other. What good can come out of letting them in?"  
  
"You have any other solutions? Since we started, you have only added more problems," M'Baku retorts. "Are we here to discuss or disagree? If that's the latter, then, well -- I hate to think I've wasted my time here."  
  
W'Kabi's face goes red, but the smile Nakia shoots in M'Baku's direction is satisfying.   
  
"I believe that my tribe's needs are to be put above all else," Amalah, the Elder of the Merchant Tribe, speaks, "which is why, I believe that it is within my tribe's interests that we oversee these refugees personally, in our city of Birnin Bashenga. I plan to appoint only the best of my people to supervise their assimilation. As our country is moving towards the globalization era, I need my people to be used to foreigners before we expand our market worldwide."  
  
"Is that wise? They are traumatized, most of them are children no older than 10 years old," Nayely says, "not potential consumers."  
  
"Then, why have the world's best medical system if we barely use it?" Amalah replies.   
  
"But what can they give to us?" W'Kabi interjects again. "We give them all these access to our technology and rehabilitation - but in the end, this is a one-sided relationship. For our kindness, they give us nothing in return."  
  
"That's called helping people," Nakia's eyes are wide and angry, "You don't usually seek profit from it."  
  
"Our nation's interests must be put first," M'Baku says, before anyone can say anything, and he sees a flash in T'Challa's eyes, "But, ah, I think those have changed since the king decided to open our borders. So any argument based on the old ways, so to speak, will be rendered obosolote."  
  
The flash in T'Challa's eyes becomes softer, and ever so slightly, his lips curve upwards. M'Baku tries to not think of what that means.  
  
-  
  
"M'Baku, wait," T'Challa approaches him, "I must thank you for your support today."  
  
"I didn't say you were right," M'Baku says, "I was simply tired of going in circles. The Council was not going anywhere."  
  
"You helped us reach a compromise today," T'Challa replies, reaching out to clasp his shoulder. "And it will not go unnoticed."  
  
M'Baku eyes the hand on his shoulder. It falls away faster than he would've liked. It is as if they are standing on a frozen lake, confused and without skates, wary of every movement. Action-reaction. The Jabari may have been given a seat in the Council, but what does that mean?  
  
Neither of them knows.  
  
"My people will not be the first to come to your aid if you fail," M'Baku reminds him.   
  
"So you are saying they will come, at one point," T'Challa smiles, and not for the first time M'Baku notices the gap between his teeth. " _Eventually_."  
  
"Your Highness, you need to stop putting words into my mouth," M'Baku says. T'Challa's smile grows. "I am being serious. While the Jabari feels that it is a long time coming that we are put in the Council, we are not part of the United Four Tribes. We still stand alone."  
  
"I understand," T'Challa nods, "Yet, as the king, I hope that we can, ah, come an arrangement, on the status of Jabariland. I have some proposals that I think will greatly benefit you and your people, as an undeniable part of Wakanda."  
  
M'Baku snorts. How many leaders before him have had to hear that? But he is more amused than annoyed now -- and something in the way the sun is hitting T'Challa's skin makes M'Baku dizzy. "And what do you hope for," he leans forward, "as _T'Challa_?"  
  
For a moment, a brief, joyful moment, M'Baku thought he saw T'Challa's guard gone, down for a second. T'Challa's adam apple bobs, and his mouth opens, as if he wants to say something, and then, as fast as if comes, T'Challa jerks backwards, like something is pulling him away.  
  
"I don't think..." T'Challa starts, and his voice is hoarse already. When he looks up, his eyes are hardened again. He clears his throat. "It will be unwise."  
  
"Nakia?" M'Baku says, and the way T'Challa flinches makes it hurt more than M'Baku expected.  
  
"It is not that," the other man shakes his head gravely. "To further complicate the political climate, when Wakanda is in under so much stress already -- I cannot let my people down again."  
  
"You still have not told me what you want," M'Baku says. "What do you want, T'Challa?"  
  
T'Challa doesn't open his mouth. M'Baku wishes to take down the guard he puts around himself, wrap his hands around his neck and asks him, serenely, if he feels what M'Baku is feeling, too. There is a pull between them, but the force might be cracking the frozen lake.   
  
Then again, M'Baku has never been bothered with ice.  
  
But T'Challa -- he's not there yet.   
  
"I bid you goodbye, M'Baku," T'Challa says curtly. "Safe travels."  
  
M'Baku scoffs, bowing his head mockingly in T'Challa's direction. "My _king_ ," he says, taking his leave. 


End file.
